


There's No Comfort in the Waiting Room (Just Some Nervous Pacers Bracing for Bad News)

by smokeandjollyranchers



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Referenced Suicide Attempt, Suicide mention, character illness, one of those hospital talks you have with a stranger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 09:18:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20005930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smokeandjollyranchers/pseuds/smokeandjollyranchers
Summary: You notice her because she’s loud.Not outwardly, but in the way she wears that grief on her face. She paces the halls silently, but that sorrow is screaming as she passes, eyes unfocused on the people around her. She’s passed this particular waiting area six times in the last fifteen minutes, and you just watch her. It’s not like sorrow is surprising, you are in a hospital, and most everyone who isn’t like you, someone who isn’t part of this place, are usually filled with sorrow.The girl breaks from her walking, and he sees shaking hands reach for her pockets, pulling out a crumpled dollar. She walks over the vending machine, and shoves the dollar in. It spits it back out. She puts it back in, it spits it back out. She takes a deep breath, smoothing it out on the edge of the machine, and she puts it back in. The machine take the dollar, and she keys in her choice, and you watch as her candy gets stuck against the glass. There’s a breathless laugh, like she can’t believe this is happening, before she punches the machine, webbing of cracks through the glass.





	There's No Comfort in the Waiting Room (Just Some Nervous Pacers Bracing for Bad News)

You notice her because she’s loud. 

Not outwardly, but in the way she wears that grief on her face. She paces the halls silently, but that sorrow is screaming as she passes, eyes unfocused on the people around her. She’s passed this particular waiting area six times in the last fifteen minutes, and you just watch her. It’s not like sorrow is surprising, you  _ are _ in a hospital, and most everyone who isn’t like  _ you _ , someone who isn’t part of this place, are usually filled with sorrow. 

The girl breaks from her walking, and he sees shaking hands reach for her pockets, pulling out a crumpled dollar. She walks over the vending machine, and shoves the dollar in. It spits it back out. She puts it back in, it spits it back out. She takes a deep breath, smoothing it out on the edge of the machine, and she puts it back in. The machine take the dollar, and she keys in her choice, and you watch as her candy gets stuck against the glass. There’s a breathless laugh, like she can’t believe this is happening, before she  _ punches _ the machine, webbing of cracks through the glass. 

You’re over there before you can stop yourself, your hand around her wrist, knuckles bleeding even as she pulls back for another hit. She whirls on you, eyes wild and sad, and you hold up your other hand. “I have another dollar?”

She blinks, before a smile cracks across her face like the glass, and you gently pull her towards the chairs. She drops into hers, hands over her face. “Oh my  _ god _ , I must look  _ insane _ .”

She doesn’t, but you don’t think you need to tell her that. You know what insane people look like, with the dried blood under their fingernails and softly beating their heads against the padded walls.  _ They look like you _ . You point to her bleeding fingers, and reach for the packet of bandages in you pocket. You open the package,and the girl looks surprised, and she holds up her non injured hand. “You don’t have to-”

“It’s okay.” You assure her, not looking at her. “Are you okay?”

“It doesn’t hurt that bad, just a little stupid, but-”

“Before that.” You cut her off. Hm, maybe that was rude. You’re not very good at being around people. You haven’t had to be around  _ real _ people in a while now. Veth was here a couple weeks ago, but Veth has never been hard, she knows the cracks and curves of your soul, and your inky blackness doesn’t smother her like it has everyone else you know. The girl doesn’t seem to think you’re being rude, she just sighs. 

“My Mama is here. She’s....” Her fist clenches, and the blood runs down the sides of her hand, warm in your palm. “She’s  _ sick _ , and they don’t...There isn’t…”

You start wrapping the bandage around her wrist, and she looks at you. Her eyes are ringed in red and swollen, there’s a little bit of dried blood on her lip from where she’s been chewing on it, and the sorrow inside her weighs down her shoulders. Her hair is in two messy buns, and  _ vibrantly _ blue, it compliments the darkness of her skin. “They said there’s no hope?”

“They said not to...not to...they said to prepare myself. Like there’s a way to  _ somehow _ prepare myself for this? Like  _ Go take a walk Jester and she’s going to go through this treatment and it’s going to make her super sick and probably isn’t going to help but you know go distract yourself or whatever _ -” She scoffs, and you see tears slip from her eyes. “And then I went and punched a vending machine and now I’m totally throwing up my trauma all over a perfect stranger and--”

“It’s okay.” You tell her, securing the bandage over her hands, and you let her go. “This is one of those places where you can just start...crying whenever you want. There’s no rules here. Lawless.”

She gives you a little smile at that, and you feel that rock in your chest beat, if only for a moment. “Or like an airport. Chips cost seven dollars there, you know.”

“It’s goddamn anarchy.” You shake your head, and her smile gets a little brighter. “I’m...sorry...about your mother-”

The brightness dies, and you wince.  _ She couldn’t be sadder, and you’re making it worse.  _ She shakes her head, and looks you over, and you feel  _ seen _ when she does, and you suddenly miss the camouflage of bandages on your wrists and thin white pajamas, and the silence of the psych ward. None of them looked at you in there, you were given your pills, your bandages were changed, even your therapy was done without eye contact. Like they were trying to resurrect a ghost, like maybe you  _ had _ managed to kill yourself, and your ghost was going to trapped in a therapudic parody of hell. 

“I’m sorry to drop all of that on you.” She sighs, looking at her hand. “I’ll bet you have your own shit, huh?”

_ You thought you were dead until Veth finally found you here, after searching for an entire week. It took you a week to realize you weren’t dead. What kind of fucking creature can’t tell if it’s alive- _ “Nothing I want to think about.” You admit. “I’m going home today.”

“That’s...really great though.” She smiles “Getting out of this place is the best part of coming to this place.”

“ _ Ja _ ,” You nod, eyes flitting towards the elevators, where you’re expecting Veth to pop out any moment now. “Didn’t...think I would be.”

She tilts her head, watching you, and you feel like flinching again. “Are...are you sick too?”

You consider that, the soft bandages under your sleeves suddenly  _ itching _ . “ _ Ja _ , I am.”

“But…” She sighs, like she’s trying to grasp at something, and it hits you when she rubs her eye with her bandaged hand.  _ Hope, she just wants some hope _ . “But you...you made it, right? You’re going home.”

“I am,  _ ja _ , and I’m...I’m happy about it.” You say, but it sounds flat, even to yourself.  _ Especially _ to yourself, and you run a hand across your face. “But I’m still sick, I think I’m always going to be sick. And...it didn’t get me this time but--”

Her hand rests on yours, for a moment, and you  _ freeze _ under the unexpected contact. She doesn't care, just keeps watching him carefully. “You’ll beat it. If you did it once before, you can do it again, right? And you  _ did _ , you know, beat it.” 

You smile a little at her, before your eyes flick down to your sleeves, and you shrug. “How many times can I be expected to-”

“Do you have people that care about you?” She asks you, and you pause, a little surprised at the question. “Do you have people that love you?”

You think of Veth, and the relief in her face when she walked into your white white white white room and saw that you were  _ alive _ . You think of Yeza, and the warm smile he always has when you’re over for dinner, when you’re over for breakfast, when you’re over  _ all the time _ . You think of Luc and how  _ happy _ he was to see you, how happy he is when you bring him books and journals, and how  _ important _ he felt when you asked him to watch Frumpkin for you, for a little while. You think of those two, and how no matter what you do, you’ll never be able to pay them back for what you did to them, and you wrap your arms around yourself a little. “ _ Ja _ , I do.”

“So then you  _ fight it _ .” She glares at you, and you lean back just a little from the intensity. “You think about those people who love you and you tell them how much you love them and you fight this as hard as you need to so you don’t leave them behind.”

You figure this really isn’t about you as much as it is her mother, but you smile at her anyways. “Sometimes, you can fight things, and you can become something more than you would’ve thought you could’ve been, but if I  _ can’t _ anymore...I don’t want them to think it’s because I didn’t love them, or that it’s because I didn’t want to fight for them. Sometimes, if we can’t fight it...it’s not because we didn’t  _ want _ to we just...sometimes things are stronger than us. Sometimes falling apart is the only thing we can do but...it’s not because our people...aren’t important to us.”

Her eyes are full of tears again, and you feel shitty for putting them there,  _ again _ . You reach up to brush the stray few away from her cheeks, and she sniffs. “I’m not ready to let her go.”

“You don’t have to.” You tell her. “You don’t have to until you’re ready to. No one decides how long that takes but you.”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to just  _ give up hope _ . She’s my  _ Mama _ , and she’s all I have and I’ve never...I’ve never liked being alone. I’ve never wanted to be alone but it keeps...it keeps happening. And…” She stares at you, like you might have answers, like somehow the most screwed up person she could’ve possibly run into in this hospital might have this answer for her. “I don’t know how to be alone.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.” You say. “Maybe it’s good that you need to have other people. Maybe that will keep you…”  _ Safe? Better? Protected? Less likely to kill yourself? _ “Happy.”

“Maybe.” She whispers, like a prayer. Another prayer whispered into the halls that have seen so many. You take a breath, suddenly feeling shitty that you’re going home and a woman who deserves to be here more than you is dying somewhere in this hospital. You try and say something else, but the elevator doors open, and you barely see the top of Veth’s head over the chairs, her bright orange headband standing out against the white white white white of the halls. She meets your eyes, and you wave. 

The girl wipes the tears from her face, and shakes her head. “I’m sorry, you have somewhere to be, you should go, it’s--it was really sweet of you to do this, to talk to me.” 

She puts her hand over your hand again, and the edge of her pinky grazes your bandages, and her eyes widen, just a touch. You try to smile again, but her arms wrap around you, and you freeze, of course you do. “Keep fighting.”

You nod, dumbstruck, but you manage to hug her back. She sighs, leaning back to look at you. “I want you to be okay, okay? Don’t come back here.”

“Ja.” You whisper, and she sniffs. “If you need anything, I uh...My name is Caleb.”

“Oh.” She giggles a little, holding out her bandaged hand. “Hi. I’m Jester.”

“I’m sorry, about everything.” You tell her, and you  _ mean _ it. You truly do. Jester smiles at you, getting to her feet again. 

“I’m glad you’re going home.” She tells you, and she  _ means _ it, she truly does. “Keep fighting, Caleb. I know it’s hard but...people need you still.”

She waves, and continues on her frantic walk around the hospital, Veth coming up to hug you as she approaches. You fall into her arms, and she holds you tightly. 

“It’s time to go home.”

“ _ Ja _ .” You whisper, feeling tears burn at your eyes. “It is.”

**Author's Note:**

> Don't you just love projecting shit onto fictional characters? Yeah, hard same.


End file.
